He hurried to catch up. ‘Cassandra, you are acting like a child.’
She stopped to turn on him. ‘You are treating me as a child, so you should not be surprised. I am twenty-six years old, Julian. I was happily on the shelf until you took it into your head to matchmake for me.’
‘I thought… It is my job, Cassandra. As the head of your family, I should see you married.’ The look he gave her was so confused that her anger evaporated, replaced by a desire to soothe him.
And that was a gift from her other family, she supposed. This tendency to mediate, even at the expense of her own happiness. ‘I understand that you are trying to help,’ she said. ‘But I also have years of experience fending off unwanted advances of less than gentlemanly men.’ It could not be proved by this evening’s escapade. She had let herself to be lured into the darkness by a cad. That problem existed because she had followed the advice of her family instead of her own instincts. But blaming Julian for her troubles would not make them any better.
She sighed and said, ‘You must trust that I will not do anything to put myself or my reputation at risk.’
He was still staring at her, doubtful.
‘As for the Duke of Westbridge?’ She took another breath. ‘I will not allow my head to be turned by any of his nonsense.’
This seemed to satisfy him and he took her back to the table where a plate of sweets awaited along with tiny glasses of orgeat. As they enjoyed them, Julian and Portia exchanged significant glances, but neither of them said anything about the absence of Andrew Rutland. Nor did they comment when Cassie took his portion of thegimblettesand drank his cordial.
Chapter Nine
After parting from Cassie, Sebastian left the tea garden in a better mood than when he’d arrived. She had forgiven him. There was no doubt of it. She had not just let him hold her; she’d practically leapt into his arms.
And for a change, he had not ruined the moment. He’d held her gently, as if she was a baby bird that might be crushed by a wrong move. He had not kissed her, though he’d very much wanted to. Instead, he had set aside his wants and tended to hers, sure that he was trading one kiss today for the hundred kisses she would give him in the future to reward him for waiting.
Best of all, he’d felt something poking against him as she’d cuddled close. When he’d looked down, he’d seen the pin he’d given her, resting close to her heart. And she’d worn it when she hadn’t expected to see him. It had to be a sign of her true feelings.
He must find a way to get her to reveal them.
But first he had other business to attend to.
He drove his carriage to a gaming hell in the East End, the sort of establishment few sensible gentlemen frequented. It was a good thing he had little sense, for it was just the place he needed to be tonight.
He tossed a coin to the doorman, to be sure his curricle would be there when he returned, and went in to find the proprietor, Miss Sally Green.
‘Westbridge,’ she said, opening her arms to greet him. ‘It has been so long.’
‘Because I wanted to hang on to the contents of my purse, you old cheat,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She was as he remembered her from the darkest days of his life, a motherly figure with grey hair piled high, and a gown of red silk. The jewels at her throat should have been a sign to him that the money he wagered was not going to leave the house.
Judging by the full tables around him tonight, London never lacked for green boys with more money than sense.
‘What do you fancy, this evening?’ she said, waving an arm. ‘Faro? Dice? Something wicked?’ She leered.
‘Information,’ he said. ‘Nothing more.’ He gave her his usual innocent smile.
‘How flattering,’ she said. ‘But what do I know that a member of the House of Lords does not?’
‘So much,’ he said, ‘So very much. You were a wealth of knowledge when I first came to town. On my first visit here, you could have fleeced me of everything I had that wasn’t entailed. But you took just enough of my blunt to teach me a lesson.’ He gestured to one of the few empty tables.
She sat down with him, signalling to a servant to bring them wine. ‘You were a brokenhearted boy, thinking he could hurt the world by punishing himself.’
‘I was an idiot,’ he said, accepting the glass set before him.
‘Love makes fools of us all,’ she said taking a sip from her own. ‘Now tell me, what do you want to know?’
‘I need just a sliver of your knowledge as it relates to a single man,’ he said, smiling in anticipation. ‘Tell me everything you know about Andrew Rutland.’
The next day, when Cassie woke, she took the ant pin from its place on the night table and held it in her hand for a moment before getting out of bed. She stared down into the amber for a moment, stroking the beads with her finger. She had heard that sometimes insects were trapped in this stone. Perhaps it trapped memories, as well.
If so, this little ant contained the best and worst of what had happened on the previous night. The thought made her smile. Last year, she had rescued Westbridge. This year, he had rescued her. There was a lovely circularity to it, and an excellent end to their association.
She frowned. She had told Julian last night that he needn’t meddle and that she knew right from wrong and men who were good for her from men who were not. But a part of her did not want this strange acquaintance to end. He was quite obviously wicked. Why else would he propose to her on a street corner?
